Grassroots Liturgist

I am going to tell you three little stories, all true. At my University Chaplaincy, there was a library that doubled as a dining room, particularly on formal occasions.   There was a lovely old Victorian dining table with brass castors on the legs.   One evening, as several of us were gathered for dinner, one of those casters gave way.   Some of us desperately held up the heavy table as our chaplain told the other students to get something to prop up the leg.   They ran back with a book – a copy of the Holy Bible!! “NOT THE BIBLE!” exclaimed the incredulous chaplain. Compare that to an interview with Salman Rushdie that I saw many years ago.   He described how in his family, all books – not just Scripture – were so revered that if one fell to the floor, they were taught to pick it up, kiss it, and put it back in its place. One final anecdote: some months ago, my father died.   As I trawled through his stuff, I came across the last bus pass of his mo...

Were Socrates alive in the 21st century, where we can fill our lives with so much noise and so many distractions, I rather suspect that he would encourage us to get back to nature. The older I get, the more I realise the importance of nature for our emotional, psychological and spiritual wellbeing.   Nature helps to slow us down, whether it be the vast countryside or our own little patch of garden or even a window box.   Nature gives us space and opportunity to reflect, and we can begin to see little parables which enable us to better understand God and our own spiritual life. For example, earlier this week I was walking on Bleaklow and was reminded of when I walked the Camino de Santiago several years ago.   This week, like then, I began to struggle; I was getting acute pains in the balls of my feet and blisters began to form. To try and avoid these sharp pains, I began to limp, to put the pressure on other areas of my feet. But, of course, we are designed to w...

Pause for a moment and think carefully: what thoughts and feelings emerge when you think of the word obligation ? As Catholics, it is a word with which we are familiar.   We are obliged to go to Holy Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of obligation; we are obliged to abstain from meat on (virtually all) Fridays of the year; we are obliged to fast and abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday; etc. There is a temptation to view these as actions imposed upon us by an external force, against which we are inclined to resist.   But I cannot be the only one who sees this as a very negative understanding of our obligations. What if the word obligation has different connotations? For example, if we say to someone, “I'm obliged,” we are expressing gratitude for a favour or a service; it is a more formal way of saying, “Thank you.” Seen from this perspective, our Catholic obligations should be an instinctive, internal response to the endless and lavish love that God has fo...

One of my university lecturers – the Professor, no less – was famed by an occasion when virtually an entire one-hour tutorial was held in silence.   A tutorial is very different to a lecture.   A wit once wrote that ‘a lecture is the process by which information is passed from the notes of the lecturer to the notes of the student, bypassing the brain of both.’ But tutorials have a more interactive format.   They are designed for discussion, clarification, and applying the knowledge gained in lectures.   You cannot expect to turn up and be passive or disengaged.   You must be tuned in. Now, this Professor had asked his students to prepare for the tutorial by doing some reading.   This reading was essential as it would prepare fertile ground for the advancement of their studies; their understanding of the topic would deepen though their shared exploration of the reading and, because of this, they would take ownership and think for themselves – developin...